


What Did I Mean To Say?

by SilverRaven33



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: First Kisses, M/M, awkward confessions, best friends to something more, teenage breakups, teenage love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 18:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRaven33/pseuds/SilverRaven33
Summary: A short, sweet snapshot of young teenage love and discovery. When Shawn tries to help Cory with his girl problems, Cory is hit with a truth that he wasn't expecting, but that might be just right after all.A twist on Episode 3 in Season 3, What I Meant To Say.





	1. Chapter 1

Cory didn’t understand. He was used to that by now, certainly, having long ago accepted that girls were a mystery. He was fine with not understanding why Topanga was acting like this, but he did want to know what to do about it. She meant everything to him; she was the most beautiful, sweetest, most wonderful girl he’d ever known. It had felt completely natural to tell her that he loved her last night at Chubbie’s. Until she had gotten quiet and asked to end their date. And now was avoiding him today.

As always, Cory turned to his best friend Shawn for advice, only remotely aware that maybe Shawn didn’t really know what he was talking about. After all, Shawn had never been in a relationship, in fact had never tried to be. But he did have a lot more experience with members of the opposite sex, so Cory usually trusted him. Shawn only had his best interests at heart, and that must make up for a little bit of wrong information. So even when Shawn bull rushed him and snatched the flowers that were meant for Topanga out of his hand, only to thrust them at an unsuspecting but intrigued looking freshman jock, Cory went with it and listened.

Apparently Topanga was just laying low, making what Shawn referred to as a “whipped list”,of all the stuff that she wanted Cory to do, like walks on the beach and going to the Pottery Barn to drink international coffee. The problem was, those were things that Cory liked to do himself, because Topanga liked them, and he liked to see her happy. What was wrong with that? But Shawn grabbed his shoulders and insisted that he wait her out.

“I don’t want you going near her,” he said, in no uncertain terms. And he told Cory to make a list of things he wanted to do. But all Cory could think of was activities that he knew Topanga would approve of anyway, like antique shopping and garage sales. He was hopeless, and he almost felt bad for Shawn for trying to help him. Cory knew to a point what Shawn was trying to do; it was something they’d been through before this. He didn’t want Cory turning in his “guy card” and just bending to every whim of a girlfriend. He wanted to know that Cory would still be his belch-competing, game- watching, horror-movie-loving best friend. But he and Shawn had made the pact a long time ago that nothing would change their friendship. Why couldn’t he love Topanga and still be best buds with Shawn?

The only problem was, now Topanga had broken up with him. Cory had done what Shawn suggested, and tried to wait her out, making her come to him. And he thought she had when she had left him a note to meet him in the cafeteria. But then all she had said was she couldn’t see him anymore. Cory felt a lump forming in his throat. This was not the way it was supposed to go. Shawn, triumphant, clapped him on the back and put an arm around his shoulder as soon as she was out of sight. 

“So, how’s it feel to have the power back, huh?” he asked, presumably unaware of what had just transpired. Cory turned to him, dazed. To his credit, Shawn picked up on Cory’s mood immediately, and took him to their empty English classroom to have somewhere quiet to talk about it. Though he initially seemed more upset that he was wrong about his theory of waiting her out, he quickly realized how much pain his best friend was actually in, partially when Cory snapped at him. But Cory softened when Shawn wanted to go through the night of the date again, thinking maybe there was something he’d missed.

“Well, we were in the back room of Chubbie’s, holding hands...” he started, but Shawn interrupted.

“Show me exactly,” he said, pulling Cory to his feet by the sleeve of his shirt. “Pretend I’m Topanga.” As Cory stood up and faced his friend, Shawn ran his hands through his hair in his patented move and then held his hands out, like he was waiting for Cory to literally take them and hold them.

“Not gonna,” Cory shook his head, and then just stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded, his eyes looking him up and down. He knew Shawn had some unconventional ways, but this was too weird. Shawn wasn’t having it though.

“Do you want answers? Do it,” he commanded, then his voice softened. “There’s nobody around. Just do it. C’mon.” And his hands reached out again, like they were waiting to hold Cory’s, like Shawn was looking forward to this. And even though that seemed to make it even weirder, somewhere in the back of Cory’s mind, he never wanted to disappoint Shawn. After all, he was just trying to help him and Topanga, right?

So Cory tried to make his mind go blank as he looked down at the puke green linoleum of the classroom floor and swung his left hand up towards Shawn’s, knowing Shawn would catch it. His instinct was to grasp Shawn’s hand as if they were just two guys shaking, maybe even starting their special handshake that culminated in a goofy little dance they had made up when they were eight years old and still, very occasionally, revisited. 

He ignored Shawn’s side comment of, “Big hands,” as he concentrated even more intensely on one particular tile of the floor. Shawn engulfed Cory’s hand in both of his, pulling him just slightly closer towards him. Cory felt his palm begin to sweat and though he could feel Shawn’s eyes on him, he could not bring himself to look up at his friend. He could make him hold his hand, but he couldn’t make him look at him. Nuh-uh, no way. Then Shawn somehow made it worse.

“Cory, how do you feel about me?” At this, almost in disbelief that he was taking it this far, Cory risked a glance at his face, and had to look away again immediately. He could feel his ears starting to heat up. Topanga. Topanga, Cory reminded himself. Shawn was merely pretending to be Topanga. But Topanga didn’t have such a strong grip, or calluses that rested on his knuckles. And she definitely didn’t have those gorgeous deep blue eyes that seemed to be boring into him.

How did he feel about Topanga? Cory asked himself as he continued to avoid Shawn’s gaze. This had started out weird and was only getting more uncomfortable.

“Well, I...” he started. “I want you to know...”

“Yeah?” Shawn encouraged. A little breath escaped Cory. Why did the back of his tongue suddenly seem to be swollen, and why were his knees shaking? Just do it, he thought, just do it and get it over with. He attempted a nervous smile.

“That…,” and here he finally said to hell with it and looked Shawn full in the face, “I love you.” He’d told himself when he looked up that he would picture Topanga, had even conjured an image of her beautiful face in his mind, big brown eyes, little button nose, flowing blond locks. But as he met Shawn’s stare, as he spoke the words, her face seemed to melt away, burned away by the intensity of how Shawn was looking at him and how he was gripping his hand, almost as if for dear life. Cory felt naked, exposed, in a way he’d never felt before under that blue eyed stare. He was pretty sure he’d never felt his heart beating this hard before either, like it was pounding against his rib cage trying to escape. And was it his imagination, or was Shawn having a difficult time breathing? 

Only now did Cory realize how tightly he was holding onto Shawn’s hand, even though both palms had become sweaty. Or maybe that was still just Cory’s. Either way, he could feel his whole face aflame with embarrassment. Which did not cool down when he suddenly realized that they had an audience. He looked to the left of Shawn, both thankful and unwilling at the same time to break eye contact, to see the doorway of the classroom clogged with people, mostly gawking girls but the freshman from earlier, still holding the flowers, prominently in the forefront. The redheaded boy looked sadly dejected, and Cory could not process until later what that expression truly meant. How much had they seen?

This caused Shawn to turn to look as well, but not to drop Cory’s hand right away. Not until the redhead had thrown the flowers to the ground, looking insulted, and stormed off, and other people came to fill in the gap. Then finally Cory and Shawn broke apart, trying to surreptitiously wipe their sweaty hands on their clothes.

Shawn, ever the smooth one, called out to the crowd, “Can’t a couple of guys have a little privacy?” The students dispersed, but mostly only because Mr. Turner came swaggering through them, followed by what must be a new teacher. Cory and Shawn took their seats, and Cory, for one, was never so glad for a class to begin. Until Topanga walked in and by him, acting as though she didn’t even know him, and took her usual seat in the front of the row. He was glad he was sitting closer to Shawn. But that wasn’t quite right either, because he had the paranoid feeling that Shawn was watching him from where he sat behind him, and Cory was not brave enough to turn around in his seat and find out.


	2. Chapter 2

In lieu of thinking about his current predicament, and because the presence of a new teacher was cause for some interest, Cory actually listened to what the guy had to say. Apparently he was Mr. Turner’s best friend, and his name was Eli Williams. Mr. Williams was all about truth in media, and, it seemed, truth about everything else. Cory felt like the man was speaking right to him when he said that if you didn’t know the true story about something, it was your job to go out and find it. When class was over, luckily the last one of the day, Cory stood up and kept his head down and booked it out of the room. He could feel Shawn behind him, following him for a few steps, and he might have even called his name, but Cory just needed to be alone.

He went home, but not inside, instead climbing the ladder to his tree house. He knew it was a childish place to go, but it was quiet and not demanding. He just hoped Shawn wouldn't follow him. It was possibly the first time he’d ever wished Shawn wasn’t there. Cory started turning over the events of the day, this time on purpose and not in random flashes like he’d been experiencing on the walk home. Topanga had broken up with him. That was the truth. Shawn had tried to help him figure out why. That was the truth. Cory had told Shawn that he loved him. Was that the truth?

The truth was that Cory couldn't get Shawn’s face out of his mind, the desperate way he’d looked at him when they were holding hands, the way he bit his lip as they broke apart, the way he ran his hands through his hair a million times a day, the bravado he’d put on in front of the gawkers, the confident way he carried himself that Cory had always been jealous of. The list could go on, but they were best friends, of course Cory knew him better than anybody. So yeah, maybe he did love him, he reasoned. That’s all it was, he told himself on a relieved sigh. It was easier not to remember the hopeful look in Shawn’s eyes or how tightly they’d held hands now that Cory had been able to get some distance from it.

Now, what to do about Topanga. The truth was that she hadn’t said I love you back. Why not? Cory could have sworn she felt the same way; she acted like it. He climbed down from the tree house, determined to get some answers. He knew he’d be late for dinner, but he also knew his mother would understand and forgive him. He grabbed his bike as quietly as he could and rode away. As he pedaled towards Topanga's, he wondered what Shawn was doing. He hoped he didn’t feel slighted by the way Cory had run away after class. He had to know Cory needed some time alone. But Cory knew how sensitive a soul Shawn was underneath his bravado, and he couldn't help but worry about his best friend. First things first, he told himself, as he pointed his bike down Topanga's street, in the opposite direction of the trailer park. 

A shower of pebbles aimed towards her window gave her warning before Cory climbed up to it, a trick he’d learned from Shawn always climbing up to his. Topanga was standing next to her bed when he barged in.

“Cory, what are you doing here?!” she sounded understandably surprised to see him. She was wearing leggings and an oversized sweater and looked so adorably cute, Cory had to steel himself.

“Look,” he started, “Now that it’s over between us, there’s a few things of mine I want back.” He’d seen where his jean jacket was hanging on the back of her closet door, the one he’d let her wear home from their ill-fated date last night. He went and grabbed it, then returned to stand in front of her.

“Okay, you have it,” she stated. “Now go.” She made a motion towards the window. That was it, Cory thought. She really didn’t want anything to do with him. There was no warmth in her gaze, she wasn’t making a move to get closer to him. He’d hoped she’d just needed some time. His fourteen year old brain couldn't comprehend that it had only been eight hours since she told him it was over, and maybe these things take longer than that.

“You know, I thought I knew you. I thought I could be open with how I felt. But you just blew me off without an explanation.” Cory was finally getting mad at her. She had the grace to look sad, now.

“Cory, I- I didn’t know how to explain,” she returned. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

“So you just break up with me instead. Great job,” his voice dripped sarcasm as he gave her a thumbs up. 

“Well...” she said, “I thought that might better than telling you the full truth.” Cory just waited, hoping she would continue, scared of her next words but more just wanting the chance at resolution, whatever it was going to be. “I’m sorry, Cory, but I don’t love you. Not like that, not right now. We’re only fourteen. It’s too much.” Cory felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of his body, and his left hand involuntarily tightened, as if it was holding Shawn’s again. He had wanted to tell Topanga how he’d loved her since they were six years old, catching fireflies in his backyard, but the look in her eyes told him that she didn’t want to hear it.

“So that’s it then?” Cory asked weakly, any anger he might have been able to raise gone. She didn’t love him. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” she answered. “I like you a lot. But if there’s that much of an imbalance in feelings, don’t you think it might be better if we’re not together, at least for now?”

“And what, you expect me to just wait for you?” Cory asked, torn between knowing he would and wanting to save some of his pride. Shawn would be so disappointed in him if he let her have that much power.

“Cory. You do what you have to do,” was her only answer. And though it tore his heart in two, Cory knew when he’d lost, and he turned to climb back out of the window. He looked back at Topanga one more time over his shoulder before he descended, and she was looking at him, but it was with the blankest stare he’d ever seen on her face. He turned back around before he could start crying like a baby.

It was all he could do not to punch the side of the house before he mounted his bicycle again, now in the gathering dusk. If he hurried, he could be home before dinner was too far along. He put his frustration and fear and sadness into pumping the pedals harder. Instead of turning right when his street came up, however, he continued going straight and took the next left. He just needed to ride for a little bit, he told himself, he wasn’t going anywhere in particular. He worked hard to empty his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

When he climbed off his bike and dropped it outside of the trailer, he was struggling for breath. He panted as he leaned it up against the peeling excuse for a deck where he knew it would be safest from getting stolen, climbed the splintering stairs, and knocked on the door before he could think about it. Shawn opened it immediately, and took in the sight of his best friend, chest heaving and forehead sweaty. 

“Cor! What happened?” Shawn looked around sharply out into the almost dark yard, to see if Cory had been chased. Cory knew Shawn would not hesitate to throw himself at anybody that may have given him a hard time.

“Just came from Topanga's,” Cory breathed. Shawn’s expression turned to one of forced satisfaction. 

“Aw, you guys all patched up then?” Either he was that oblivious or he was willfully ignoring the obvious, Cory thought. Why would Cory be here right now if they were all patched up? Cory just looked up at Shawn from where he still stood on the deck just outside the door and mutely shook his head. Shawn’s smile faded and his eyes got wide.

“Get in here,” he said simply, and drew his friend inside with a familiar arm around his shoulder. Cory leaned into him, without really meaning to, he swore. It was just nice to be welcomed. Shawn closed the door and poured him a cup of water, which he thrust into his hand. It was obvious Shawn was home alone, again, his father being who knew where. There were times that Cory envied his friend the freedom that must afford him, barely having to answer to anybody, but there were other times, like now, as Cory took in the microwaved TV dinner, the silence of the trailer, and the homework spread out on the sagging couch with no one to help Shawn with it, that he couldn’t help feeling bad for him. He also knew him well enough to know not to say anything. Shawn swiped the books and papers off the couch, giving the two a place to sit down. 

“Come here and tell your Shawnie all about it,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. Cory suddenly felt self conscious. This was just Shawn, he told himself, best friend of almost ten years, the person he went to with everything, the guy he’d spoken the words “I love you” to earlier that day. That was all. Cory’s heart definitely sped up as he sat down next to Shawn, but he did his best to ignore it.

“She doesn’t love me,” he said flatly. “I poured my heart out to her, and she...doesn’t love me.” 

“Aw, Cor,” Shawn exhaled, clearly feeling his pain with him. Cory noticed Shawn’s arm was back around his shoulders, and he found himself resting his head on Shawn’s shoulder. Sometimes you just needed some comfort, damn it. The ends of Shawn’s hair tickled Cory’s forehead.

“But at least now you know,” Shawn was saying. “That friend of Mr. Turner’s was right. The truth is important.” That was rich, Cory thought, coming from Shawn Hunter, but he bit his tongue. He was just trying to help, and truthfully, Cory was impressed Shawn had been paying that much attention in class. Of course, the two of them hadn’t been horsing around, distracting each other like usual for once.

“Thanks Shawnie,” Cory said. “Thanks for helping me figure stuff out and for...for being there.” He shrugged his shoulder, still in Shawn’s grip. He didn’t want to sound too mushy, but he was thankful for his best friend. It had been a long, emotionally tiring day. 

“Of course, man,” Shawn returned, his voice low, and, dare Cory think it...intimate. He suddenly had the urge to stand up, to flee, to not be sitting this close to his friend that was making him feel all sorts of things. But he didn’t move. Cory felt his heart start beating solidly against his ribs again, just when it had slowed down from his bike ride here. He and Shawn were just sitting there, but Shawn’s arm was still around him, and they were almost flush together on the couch, and Cory’s hand was almost resting on Shawn’s leg. Okay, now it was truly resting on his leg. He didn’t dare look up and over at his friend.

“Cor, look at me. Please.” Damn it. Cory started to shake his head again but then felt his eyes drawn, almost against their will, over to Shawn’s face next to his. Shawn was giving him that look that made him feel naked again, and Cory forgot how to breath for just a moment. 

“Can I do this?” Shawn asked, and dropped his hand from where it had been resting on Cory’s shoulder down to his side and, grabbing his belly just below his ribs, pulled Cory into him just a bit more. Cory didn’t respond, but he didn’t move away, so he guessed that was a yes. He licked his lips nervously. He was too close to Shawn’s face, that’s the excuse he was using for why his eyes were glued, or rather, drowning, in Shawn’s. Why had he never noticed how blue they were, like a summer sky on the most cloudless and humid of days? When all you can do is nothing because the heat makes it impossible to move? Like Shawn was doing to him right now.

They could feel each other’s breath on their faces, and Cory wished desperately for something to say, for a joke to crack, for a piece of forgotten homework, for literally anything that might distract from this intensity. But his mind, blank earlier by choice, had now lost all function. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here, on this couch, alone with his best friend that was undeniably looking at him as if he wanted to kiss him. Cory really should get home, his brain tried to flail weakly, it wasn’t too late to save this from...whatever this was. Meanwhile Shawn’s eyes continued to bore into him, into his very soul. And then it was too late to save this, for Shawn had finally leaned forward and pressed his lips, just barely, to Cory’s. 

Neither one knew which pulled back first, but Cory watched Shawn’s cheeks turn pink and could not for the life of him stop the thought of how cute he looked from bubbling up. He dimly realized his lips felt like they were on fire, and in the back of his barely functioning brain he tried to remember if kissing Topanga had ever felt like that, and he and Shawn had barely...he couldn't even think the word yet in relation to him. But he could, and did, move in closer to Shawn and press his lips against his this time, and this time they seemed to stay connected for a bit longer. Cory didn’t really know how long it was, as he’d lost all concept of time and reality. He just knew as weird as this felt, it didn’t feel bad. In fact, though it would be a little bit before he would realize this, it felt better than anything he’d ever done before, with anybody. 

“I love you too, Cor,” Shawn whispered, resting his forehead against Cory’s and reaching for his hand that was on Shawn’s thigh. The boys held on, letting themselves slowly come to a new mutual awareness together.


End file.
